


Sweet Tales of Revenge

by kangnaegi



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Survival Characters, Character Death, Demons, Grim Reapers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18887878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangnaegi/pseuds/kangnaegi
Summary: "Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives it ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."- The Clod and the Pebble, William BlakeWitnessing a family member's death scars the mind in ways one could never understand. But witnessing the death of an entire family, being the last one left, destroys the mind. A lust for vengeance, the knowledge that killing the killers only creates a new monster. It's what drove him to the edge.Years after killing his family's assassinators, Kim Wonshik is still driven by the sight of red. Throw a love sick Grim Reaper into the mix and there's bound to be some sort of emotional blooming.





	1. Author's Note

Hello?

Yeah, uhm, hi. I don't know how to write these. 

Anyways... I think spent an entire month actually planning this only for my godforsaken imagination to through me off route and down a beautiful spiral of... death (?) as I was writing. So yeah, because of that you'll come across a few of the playable characters (and weapons) Black Survival- just a few of them have their names changed and don't go by their in game persona at all. 

Certain chapters are just fillers, such as "The Photographer and His Soul" and "Patch Me Up", but I'd advise you to still read them since they do give hints to some of the slowly building plot line. 

To add, this story was originally only supposed to be between Wonshik, Taekwoon and the Black Survival character Chiara (for moral support!), but I built on the plot (characters too!) and added a very small subplot for Wonshik and Hongbin. 

There are also quite a lot of references to the poets William Blake and Edgar Allen Poe (plus myself!) 'cause I'm just that type of person. 

So, yeah, I hope you all enjoy this and to anyone that does not condone swearing, homosexuality (please don't take it too seriously for the VIXX members) (also what the hell are you doing here if you are), or any form of extreme violence, I recommend that you just don't read this. At all.

Kinnie


	2. Midnight Ghost

Wonshik's eyes were glazed over, emotionless and staring into the vast skyline of Kingsdale. He blinked as a bird flew towards him, settling down on the cement of the roof as he walked towards the edge. It was just past six, the sky painted various shades of pink, purple and yellow. He sighed, turning his eyes away from the fiery star that burned into the west end of the horizon. 

Today had been irritatingly slow, barely any customers at his shop (clearly De La Muerte wasn't a very inviting shop name, though he did have a few regulars), no one had ticked him off to another plane of existence, and he hadn't run into any interesting Reapers or ghosts as of late.

As he stared out to the sky, his mind wandered back to the dark place it had decided to turn into a home all those years ago. The silver halls, black skies and endless nights. It was a terrifying sight; the blood stains, the bodies, his sister...

After he escaped that place, he spent two years chasing after the people that tore his family apart. The people that took his friends away from him. He made a vow that he would kill each and every one of them. No mercy would be shed, just how they had treated him. But he had completed that goal a long time ago, and what he did now, was the aftermath of not being able to free himself from thoughts of murder.  
  
Now standing on the edge, he played a dangerous game against balance. Walking along with one foot almost suspended in the air. He was at least 300 feet from the safety of the streets. A smug smile appeared on his face as he suddenly slipped, but instead fell backwards to the roof with a soft thud. The bird cawed and took off, a single feather falling off as it flew into the evening sun.  
  
He stood up, dusting his pants off and picking up his bag before returning to the interior of the building. The metal door creaked open, the stench of dried blood and rust burnt his nose, urging him to pull a surgical mask over his face.  
  
As he entered the thirteenth floor, Wonshik met the eyes of the few residents that lived there with him. Their greetings went ignored as he walked past them and unlocked the door to his apartment. There, it was quiet. He could only hear the sound of cars. As for his neighbours, well, they were all dead.  
  
A young woman floated in through his living room wall, ignoring the curses he threw her way before exiting. He grumbled to himself, throwing his leather gloves into the floor.  
  
"You don't get privacy on the thirteenth floor, Mister Kim." Another ghost said, this one was technically his roommate. It was one of the former tenants of the apartment.  
  
"I know that." He mumbled, removing his mask and placing his black duffle bag on the table. He opened it and began to rummage through the bag.  
  
"So... who are you bringing home tonight?" They asked him, floating to his side and examining the contents of the bag.  
  
He pulled a bloodied knife out and flipped it in his hand. Wonshik shrugged, slinking past the ghost and into the kitchen. He began to clean it, wiping away the dried blood.  
  
The ghost sighed as they felt a new presence in their midst and so, they began flitting in and out of each room before returning to his side. "Mister Kim."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You have a guest." The ghost's eyes turned angry and it left the apartment.  
  
Wonshik placed the knife down and made his way to the end of the hall. Although he had a feeling of who had invaded his privacy (yet again), he still asked, "Who's there?"  
  
When he received no answer, he slowed his pace, turning to the door that would lead into his bedroom. He made to open it, but it swung open before he could even touch the handle. On the other side stood a pale pink haired girl wearing a white long sleeved blouse and black leather pants. She had high heeled boots on and adorned a sheathed dagger on her left hip.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What do you mean, 'Oh'?" She snapped at him, brushing past him and going towards the living room.  
  
He rolled his eyes and followed her out, "You know there's a front door."   
  
"It's not as fun." She replied, sitting down on his leather couch, "Besides, what's the use of my powers if I'm just gonna waltz in through a door?"  
  
"You scared Chanwoo off."  
  
"So? You killed him." She pulled a dagger out of his duffle bag and inspected it.  
  
"He asked me to." Wonshik fired back, snatching the weapon from her small hands. She could almost hear the remorse his voice as he spoke about the young boy. His voice became quiet, a rare thing. "And you were the one that decided not to Reap him."  
  
"Then you shouldn't have killed him!"   
  
He looked away from her, choosing not to answer her statement and just stare out the window.  
  
"You know," She began, moving to stand behind him, "If you had just tried to be normal that night, he'd still be alive. Maybe you wouldn't be all murder crazy. You never would've met me."  
  
"Ch-"  
  
"You could've gotten help, brought him to a doctor. But no! You helped him bring his life to an end. Why do you think I didn't Reap him? I wanted to remind you of how stupid you are!" She smacked the back his head, making sure he'd get the message.  
  
This wasn't the first time one of her unannounced visits had escalated into a lecture about how stupid he was for helping Chanwoo die. Time and time again, she reminded him why she chose not to Reap the boy. It was her only way of trying to get him to go back to who he was before. To the sixteen year old boy playing soccer with his sister.  
  
She couldn't.  
  
"Listen to me!" He turned and pushed her away, this was the first time he had been physical when it came to the fighting. He didn't flinch when she hit the ground, her dagger slipping from its sheath and clattering on the floor. "Do you think I wanted to kill him!?" He kicked the table leg and turned back to the window in an attempt to hide his stinging eyes from her. "I couldn't stand seeing him like that. I knew that someone would have to Reap him, so he could find peace. I knew he would be better off with his brother rather than here with me!"  
  
She pushed herself up and reached out to touch his shoulder. "I'm sorry," Her voice lowered. Weirdly enough, this scared her more than the fact that he was a killer. "I just want to help you and I don't know how."  
  
He smacked her hand away, "You're honestly not doing anything to help me." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and faced her. "Why do you always appear at my kill sites?" He asked her, changing the topic and standing with his arms crossed.  
  
Her expression softened, clearly he didn't want to keep talking about Chanwoo any longer. "Other Reapers are annoyed at how much work you give them."  
  
"That doesn't mean you have to appear."  
  
"Who do you want me to send, huh?"  
  
He rolled his eyes, "Get out of here. We're not even supposed to be talking."  
  
She scoffed, "You're saying that?" She leaned back against the couch arm and crossed her foot over the other, "You started the conversation."  
  
"I never wanted to continue it."  
  
There was silence. Wonshik left the living room and went back into the kitchen, resuming his cleaning of the knife. She followed him, watching as he put the knife on the dish rack and dried his hands on his pants, leaving damp handprints on his thighs. He opened the fridge and tossed a beer can her way. She caught it, opening it and taking a sip as he took out another for himself.  
  
"You shouldn't have answered me then." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter.  
  
She ignored him, taking another sip and boosting herself up onto the counter. He took a deep breath and looked over at her figure, "Why did you answer me anyways?" He asked, putting his can down and straightening his posture.  
  
"I was curious." She mumbled, "I had been to your kill sites at least three times back then. I wondered why someone would kill another human so gruesomely and frequently. I answered your question and never got an answer from you."  
  
"Huh, you never did."  
  
"Will I ever get an answer?"  
  
Wonshik shrugged, "Probably not."  
  
She glared at him, "You're horrible."  
  
He let out a breathy laugh, picking up his can and taking a long gulp. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, "I'll tell you someday."  
  
She ignored him and hopped off the counter, walking up him. "Go to hell."  
  
He chuckled and placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair, "I'm not dying anytime soon."  
  
She pushed his hand and turned away, tossing her half empty beer can into the sink and heading into the living room. He followed her, intrigued by the way she was acting.  
  
"I'm leaving." She stated, "I'll ask someone else to Reap the soul of whoever you kill tonight." He blinked and she was gone.  
  
Sighing, he opened the front door and called out into the hall, "Chanwoo... She's gone."  
  
The ghost boy popped back into the room with a small _poof_. His eyes no longer angered, but instead worried. He floated around the room twice, watching as Wonshik started cleaning up.  
  
"You're extremely quiet." Wonshik muttered, readjusting the placements of his books as the younger flitted in and out of his peripheral vision.  
  
Chanwoo stayed silent, finally settling down on his feet and standing behind the older man.  
  
"Did she make you feel bad for killing me?" Chanwoo asked, tugging lightly at his sleeves as Wonshik decided on a book to read and moved to the couch. The lack of an answer made the young boy anxious, so he flitted over to Wonshik's side, and forced him to look away from the book. The elder's chocolate brown eyes lit up, surprised by the sudden contact. "Can you please answer me, Mister Kim? I don't like it when people feel bad because of me."  
  
Wonshik let out a soft laugh and the boy moved his hand away, the sound calming him just a bit. Shaking his head, he told the younger that it wasn't his fault. He just didn't like when people would show up unannounced and take up so much of his time.  
  
This made the younger boy smile, "Oh! Alright, I'll try my best to keep those people away, then!"  
  
Another laugh left Wonshik's lips and Chanwoo smiled, he liked hearing that sound. "Thanks, Chanwoo."  
  
An hour had passed and Wonshik stood from the couch, closing the book and heading into his room. Chanwoo sat back, watching as he returned wearing full black and donning a black mask and baseball cap.  
  
"I won't be back until midnight. Take care of the place, Chanwoo."  
  
Chanwoo hummed, acknowledging the older man, "Don't get caught."  
  
He chuckled, "Don't worry. Only the Reapers now who I am, and not even they would rat me out to the police." 

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

If there was someone Wonshik had been just dying to kill for the past week, it'd have to be that rat from the bakery down the street. The kid wouldn't leave him alone, sparking a fiery annoyance deep inside the man.  
  
He grunted softly as he opened a window which led into said kid's dorm room. His roommate wouldn't be back until noon the next day, meaning he could do this with little to no interruption. Carefully climbing into the room, Wonshik pulled a knife from his boot, its blade shining in the moonlight.  
  
To his dismay, the kid was awake.  
  
"Hey there, Rat." Wonshik said, not meeting the kid's gaze as he examined the knife's sharpened blade.  
  
"W-who are you?" He stuttered, backing away into his desk. The game on his laptop was still running, reminding Wonshik of one of his old friends and prompting him to smile beneath the black mask.  
  
He began to casually converse with him, taking a good look at the room. He slipped the knife back into his boot as he reached the door, reaching upwards to lock it before turning back to kid.  
  
"You play Dead by Daylight?"   
  
The kid nodded, one of his hands moving backwards to close the laptop. He stood from his chair and tried to put as much distance as possible between the two. Soon, one stood at the door and the other at the window beside the desk.  
  
"How old are you?" Wonshik asked, peering at a family photo that sat on the boy's beside table. "Nineteen?"  
  
"Seventeen..."  
  
"Huh... a high schooler. You know, Rat, it's a school night. Past eleven. Almost midnight. You should be either sleeping or studying." Wonshik quirked an eyebrow, "Why are you still up?"  
  
"It's not like I'm good at school or any-"  
  
Before he could finish speaking, Wonshik shot forward, placing a finger on the boy's trembling lips, "Come on, Rat. Don't you want to make your parents proud?" He seethed, pulling on the kids wrist and forcing him to sit back down at the desk.   
  
"W-what are you going to do?"   
  
Keeping a hand on the kid's shoulder, he carefully reached into his boot and pulled the knife back out, "I see why you're so annoying. You're probably playing games during class. Not paying any attention to where you're going or who is speaking to you. You just keep getting in the way..." He trailed off and pulled his mask off with the hand that held the knife.

The kid's eyes went wide with shock, "No... you're the man from..."

He smiled, his tongue darting out to dampen his upper lip before returning his focus to the shaking body in front of him. "You're pitiful, you know?" Wonshik placed the flat side of the blade against the kid's wrist and whispered into his ear, "You see, JC, I was considering sparing your life... But yesterday, oh... you just set something off inside of me."  
  
JC opened his mouth to scream, but Wonshik reacted first, covering his mouth with his left hand and smiling. He dragged the tip of the blade upwards, only scratching his victim's skin as he brought it closer and closer to his throat. He leaned in, his lips almost kissing the boy's earlobe, "I hope you told your mother you love her."


	3. A Realm of Reapers

Although, the Grim Reaper Realm is typically portrayed as dark, gloomy and place no one would want to be- believe me, it's not.

The Grim Reaper Realm was a beautiful place at night, especially during the spring and summer seasons. One could make out constellations from every corner of the sky, the moon shining brightly over the Citadel rooftop and reflecting into murky waters. Tonight, brand new Reapers could be seen along the shorelines, tugging along their freshly made friends as they followed Adela, Yuki and Rosalina - three of the oldest Grim Reapers ever recorded.

Not far from there, Fiona and Shoichi were playfully going sword-to-sword with one another, a friendly competition that the two loved to keep going when they weren't out in the field and had time to spare. Fiona was knocked to the ground, but pulled her body into a tight ball, turning her fall into a backwards summersault as she quickly regained her stance. She continued to deflect the elder's attacks before successfully landing a hit on him. Nathan cheered them on, snapping a photo on his camera every now and then while Sissela sat back and watched the fight.

As usual, Zahir, Hyunwoo and JP were together in the Library of Souls. Sweeping through years of Soul Collection as they spoke quietly. JP stood between the two, so another brawl would not be triggered and if one was, he could easily break it up.

On the roof of the library stood two Reapers. One decked in a black dress and the other in navy blue robes. The latter seemed to be frustrated by whatever the had former said, trying to push her away as she continuously pestered him for a favour.

"Come on, Taek!" The pink-haired reaper frowned as she tugged on his sleeve as she tried to convince him to Reap whoever Wonshik would kill that night. "You owe me a favour either way! Why not get it over with now?"

Taekwoon grimaced, "No." She huffed and let go of his sleeve, falling back on the roof as she slowly began to give up. "I'm not doing it because I don't have time for mass murderers."

"Fuck you." She dragged out the last word in an attempt to annoy him until he would agree.

A quiet laugh left the boy's lips and he squatted down to look at her small form. He cocked his head to the side and asked, "Why do you act like this? Haven't you been a Reaper longer than I have?"

She huffed and pushed his face away, causing him to lose balance and fall to the cement beside her. He let out a groan of pain and smacked her shoulder, wincing as he sat up straight. "Dammit." He grunted, inspecting the small scathe on the palm of his hand, "Thanks a lot, Chiara."

She giggled and sat up, poking at his ribs, "So... Will you do it?"

He turned and shot a death glare at her. The glare turned into a kind face as he turned away and mumbled, "Fine. I'll do it. Happy now?"

A bright smile appeared on her face. She bounded up to him, engulfing him in a tight hug. "Thanks, Taekwoon."

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Jung Taekwoon, also known as 833, had been friends with Chiara for as long as he could remember. The two had become Reapers around the same time almost 500 years ago. They worked together (when it was possible) and were presumably the other's closest friend. At first, Taekwoon resented the idea of working with a woman almost nine years younger than him. He also didn't speak her language, so there was that to add. It was only when the young girl almost lost her life a second time around that he had realized how important she was to him. He saw her as a younger sister, as family. From then on, the two worked together until the younger was promoted and became independent, and so did he.

It was nerve racking, the day they parted; but he continued to persevere, becoming one of the most respected Reapers.

There was multitude of gory scenes he would come across when out on the field; suicides, bombings, wars, you name it. But one July morning, he witnessed something he had never seen before.

In front of him were seven dead bodies, a blood soaked living room (more like a dying room at this point) and two young boys crowded by men. He wanted to reach out to the boys, help him, but he couldn't. He was only here to do his job, and that was to help those who were lying dead on the floor.

He raised his Death Scythe over the first one. A girl, no older than seventeen, wearing a red stained white t-shirt and jeans. Taekwoon closed his eyes, as much as he would prefer to know where he was hitting, he couldn't bear to look at the body any longer.

"No!" A scream pierced through his ears and he opened his eyes, stopping the scythe a mere millimeter from her chest. "No! Jiwon! Don't take her from me! Please!"

Taekwoon looked at one of the boys, seeing an uncanny resemblance to the girl lying in front of him. _They must be family,_ he thought, cocking his head to the side and giving the boy an intrigued look. _But how does he see me? I have my glamour up. Is his soul that corrupted?_

"Please," he sobbed, fighting against the bewildered men who held him down on his knees, "Don't take her from me. Not Jiwon. Not my sister. Please."

"Hey kid, are you crazy? She's dead!" One of the men laughed and kicked him in the stomach, "Freak."

He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry,' and moved so his back was facing him before reaping the soul of his sister. The boy screamed again, the sound was accompanied by a thud and violent coughing. Still, Taekwoon ignored it, moving to Reap the rest of his family and friends.

As he stepped over the last one, his scythe only a tad less shinier than before, he took one last look at the two boys. Both were unconscious and being carried away by the men.

"Maybe I'll find you again." Taekwoon whispered to himself, leaving through the back door and making his escape into the night. _And hopefully, you'll be alive._

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Taekwoon zipped through Kingsdale. His hair was slicked back by the strong winds as he moved from rooftop to rooftop, using the power lines as a means to travel faster.

Soon enough, he found where he was going. A small apartment complex where two high school students resided, one of them being the boy he'd Reap tonight. He appeared inside the dead one's room, surprised by the lack of blood inside. He began to look around, carefully stepping over the body and completely ignoring the knife in its neck.

As he inspected the bookshelf, footsteps began to approach him. They seemed to be coming from the bathroom. He stilled, his eyes continuing to trace the letters on the books until a cough resounded through the room.

"I can see you." The voice was deep, unwavering. It sounded as if this person had dealt with Reapers before, like it was normal from them to see such divine beings daily.

Taekwoon didn't answer, he just turned around and revealed himself to the person. His cat-like eyes accentuated by eyeliner and the moonlight as he stepped towards the man. The man raised an eyebrow, eyeing his scythe with an amused expression.

"Chiara has interesting friends." The man said, going to the dead boy's side and pulling the knife out of his neck. He slid it back into his boot and pulled the surgical mask around his neck over his face. "What's your name?"

"Jung Taekwoon."

"Kim Wonshik. Nice to meet you."

He nodded in return, taking up his scythe and also going to the body's side.

Wonshik leaned back against the windowsill, watching in pleasure as the boy's soul was Reaped by Taekwoon. "How long have you been a Reaper?" He asked nonchalantly, beginning to move about the room and rearrange it to make it look like a suicide.

"Around 500 years."

Wonshik chuckled, "So you've known Chiara for a long time, then."

"She's like a sister to me." Taekwoon replied, he returned his scythe to its rightful place on his back and crossed his arms, "Why are you even talking to me?"

"Why are you replying?"

The Reaper scoffed and made his way to the window, "Well, until next time, Mister Kim." With that, Taekwoon fell through the window and disappeared into the night, leaving an amused Wonshik to escape into the darkness by his own means as the two went their separate ways.


	4. Mala Ipsa Nova; Bad News Itself

As Kingsdale began to stir one grey November morning, a group of three eccentric looking people appeared in the lobby of Wonshik's residence. One looked no older than sixteen.

Despite the frigid weather, his thin arms and upper body were framed by only a white tank top, bracelets, a bandage wrapped around his left forearm and a leather strap on the other. His left cheek housed a scar in the shape of an X that he seemed to have no shame in showing, and in all honesty, the only thing that could draw someone away were his seemingly lifeless and dull, azure eyes. His messy brown hair was kept back from his face by a tattered, red bandana with the letter M sewed into the end.

Beside him stood a much older looking and muscular man, maybe in his late twenties. He had maroon eyes and spiked periwinkle hair which was slicked back by a thin black headband. He wore a black leather jacket, cuffed denim jeans of the same colour and burgundy red gloves. Leather suspenders hid multiple weapons in their stashes; ammo and throwing daggers being only a few.

Lastly, was a girl. Her hair was short, spiked and a stark white. Eyes like pools of blood; wild, unforgiving and thirsty for more red. She wore a black tank top beneath a ripped white crop top. Her black jeans were even more ripped than her shirt and on her right leg, a fiery metal brace hid beneath the skin of her boot. Her eyes were wild, unforgiving and blood thirsty.

There was no mistaking it; this was them. These three people were the Bloody Trinity of Mala Ipsa Nova.

Mala Ipsa Nova was what seemed to be both a terrorizing and peacemaking group. They protected those that needed it, while at the same time killing anyone who dared to oppose their beliefs. Above all, Mala Ipsa Nova had very interesting members. Their pasts all seemed to consist of being killers, orphans or money hungry people. They would take on every job they got with a clear mindset; do the job, get the money, move on.

Today, they were here to confront a very certain man in hopes of recruiting him for the group.

The youngest began to tap his foot impatiently as they waited for the elevator to arrive, his azure eyes darting through the lobby and glaring at anyone who dared to stare at the trio for longer than a second.

"Marcelo, quit it." The girl's voice was stern, "You know better than to do that."

Marcelo rolled his eyes, sighing in relief as the elevator finally arrived. The girl grimaced at his behaviour and nudged along the eldest of the three, who thanked her for notifying him as they stepped into the small space.

The ride to the thirteenth floor was silent, save for the sound of Marcelo impatiently tapping his foot.

The elevator bell let out a soft ding as it stopped at the supposedly cursed floor. The girl stepped out first, her eyes brightening at the sight of blood splatters on the walls and ghosts flickering in and out of her sight. Her lips curled upwards and she snickered, "Luke, this place must be having you itching to clean."

"You really think you're funny, huh, Jackie?" Luke scowled in spite of how true her statement was. He quickly hid his twitching fingers in his pockets to avoid further teasing. He looked around, searching for a friendly ghost that would give them the rest of the information needed.

Out of all the ghosts on this floor, there only seemed to be one that would talk to him- Mai, an ex-fashion designer who died after she rejected her boyfriend's proposal. It was ruled as an accidental death, but she knew better than them all. He had killed her in her sleep.

Her shoulder length light brown hair seemed to bounce with her movements, despite being four inches off the ground. She moved to face Luke and her long turquoise shawl swirled around her body as if it were the ocean waves rolling along the shoreline, "Why do you want to talk to him?"

He looked over at Jackie and Marcelo, raising an eyebrow to see whether or not he should tell the woman in front of him.

"We're with Mala Ipsa Nova, have you heard of it before?" Jackie said with a shrug, her shirt sleeve falling off her shoulder due to the sudden motion.

Mai nodded, "I have. Is he a target? Because to be honest with you, Mister Kim is a pretty nice guy, he just-"

Marcelo cut her off, his eyes baring daggers through her fluorescent body, "We're here to recruit him. Alright?"

She blinked, "Wow, rude much?" She pointed to a door at the very end of the hall, "That's his place." Mai eyed Marcelo and frowned, "You're a sad boy."

A quiet growl came from deep in his chest. He would've lunged at (and fallen through) the ghost girl if it wasn't for Luke. He pulled Marcelo back by the collar and thanked the girl before dragging the young boy down the hall.

"What was that for!?" Marcelo exclaimed, smacking Luke's forearm and frowning. Despite the sting that shot through him, Luke didn't let up on his hold of the boy. He knocked on the door with his free hand and waiting for an answer.

It took a few minutes before Wonshik appeared at the doorway. His eyes were tired and weary, their brown irises shaded by a cloud of interest. He sized the three up, raising an eyebrow as Chanwoo appeared beside him with a confused expression.

"What?" He spat out, annoyed from being awaken at such an ungodly hour. He held the door open and began to lean against the door frame, his black sweater fell open, revealing a set of abs and tattoos.

"Are you Kim Wonshik?" Luke asked, his hand still keeping a strong grip on Marcelo's collar, keeping him from making any sudden moves.

His expression changed, putting an invisible guard up and straightening his posture. "Who's asking?"

"Luke Lewandowski, hitman for Mala Ipsa Nova." The twenty-seven year old let go of Marcelo and crossed his arms over his lower chest, "So, are you Kim Wonshik?"

Wonshik nodded, "The one and only."

A gleeful smile crept onto Jackie's face. She nudged Luke to the side and he allowed her to move forwards. Now, she was standing in front of her comrades. Wonshik's head tilted to the left ever-so-slightly and he grinned, "I know you."

"It's been a while, Midnight Ghost."

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Jackie and Wonshik had long ago been murderous partners. They would plan out staged attacks, be hired by the richest of the rich to kill off enemies and from time to time, have their fun and rid the world of an unsuspecting bypasser. The two were extremely close and they worked together until Jackie had been recruited by Mala Ipsa Nova.

They had met after Wonshik had killed the last of his family's killers. It was just past midnight and he was sitting beneath a low overpass, hands still bloodied and soiled. His eyes were closed and he was breathing softly, as if he was sleeping. The white haired girl jumped from the top of the overpass and woke him with a smile.

Her first words were, "Your hands are dirty. The police could find you quite quickly if you just lie here." She squatted down to look the waking man in the eyes, "Come with me, you can get cleaned up at my place."

Reluctantly, he stood up, mask still covering the lower half of his face. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and followed her. The swaying of her bright orange half skirt and soft clang of her metal brace against the cement wasn't hard to miss, so he purposefully stayed three meters behind her until they made it to a small warehouse.

She lifted the metal door just enough, allowing him to enter first. She followed him, watching as he took in the sight surrounding him.

Chainsaws in a multitude of different sizes and colours decorated the back wall while bloodied gloves were a makeshift carpet beneath a medium sized oak wood desk. On the left end of the room was a bulletin board, covered in thumb tacks, string, maps and crossed out photos. A small smile crept onto his lips from beneath the mask, "So... you're Quilt?"

She giggled, "It's actually Jackie Jones, but yeah, I'm Quilt."

Gesturing for him to sit down, she grabbed a washcloth and began to dampen it in a red stained sink. She returned to his side and sat down on the coffee table in front of him, holding her hands out. He gave her his bloodied hands and she took them.

Surprisingly enough, her hands were warm and soft to the touch. He watched with intent as she wiped his hands of blood and dabbed away at the cuts on the back of his hands. Her jagged white bangs fell over her face as she worked, being careful not to hurt him more.

"Who did you kill?" She asked him once she was finished. She stood and went back to the sink, cleaning out the cloth as she waited for an answer.

"The people that killed my family."

"Ah... I see, a revenge act."

He nodded and stood up, pulling his mask from his face and began to walk around the workshop. He stopped in front of the wall of chainsaws and trailed a finger over the sharp, shining teeth of a bright orange and silver one.

"That one's my favourite." She clarified, going to his side and handing him a beer, "Here. Drink up."

He graciously accepted it, popping the can open and taking a long gulp. She smiled at him again and began to ask him about himself, poking and prodding for answers until he gave in with a smile.

"So... what happened to your family?" She finally asked the question she wanted ask first, leaning over the countertop and nibbling at her bottom lip. "You don't need to talk if you don't want. But you know... murderer to murderer... the reasons are always the most important part of us."

He nodded, placing the now empty beer can onto the counter and stretching his arms out, "Huh, guess I'm a murderer now." He grimaced before continuing, "They had been after my parents for a while... I don't know why, but they were. Then one day, while I was eating dinner with my family and a friend's family, they attacked us. They only left me and my friend alive."

"Wait, why?"

He shrugged, "They took us to some lab. Drugged us and did experiments on us. They thought I died from an overdose two years ago, so they dumped me into the river for dead. But ta-da! I'm alive." His voice was laced with sarcasm.

"Holy shit..." She mumbled, ruby eyes growing wide, "I don't remember much of my reason anymore, my brain's clogged up with blood and screams now." She giggled and took a seat beside him, kicking her legs back and forth.

"Huh..." she began to think again, staring at the shine of her metal brace, "Your friend... Where is he now?"

"No idea. He wasn't there when I went back." The look on Wonshik's face transformed into an intrigued one, as if he had come up with an idea. "J, I have a proposal."

"Ooh... you're thinking."

He let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, "I'm still new to this. Maybe... you could teach me the ropes?" He began to eye the empty and rusting metal shelves at the back, "I could give you a better place to stay for the meanwhile."

A soft laugh escaped her lips and she smiled brightly at him, "Why not? This place isn't the best to sleep in either way."


	5. The Photographer and his Soul

Nathan was a simple man. He had friends, he possibly had family, and a job he didn't have much of a choice for. He had a hobby. No, more like a passion for photography.

Typically, he'd have two cameras on his person, one in his hands and the other hanging off his shoulder. Today, he only had one.

He brushed back his long brown bangs before returning his cap to his head with a soft smile. Another Reaper, Sissela stood beside him, tinkering with her Death Scythe while she waited for him to finish up his work. For once, she wore something other than her signature knee length white dress and shawl. Instead she was decked in her favourite Prussian blue cape coat, an oxford blue skirt and black tights paired with brown and black strapped shoes.

He silently handed her one of the freshly developed photos, staring intently at her red-tinged eyes. She reverted her Death Scythe to a smaller size and dropped it into her jacket pocket before taking the photo. She held it up to the light, turning away from him as she inspected it with delight.

"You seem to get better every time." She whispered in awe, she brought the photo closer to her face and looked at the people in it. She grinned, seeing the exact moment when Fiona knocked Shoichi to the ground and claimed triumph in their mini-competition.

He chuckled, taking the photo back from her small hands and placing it on the line to dry. A soft whistle was heard from his jacket pocket as he finished cleaning up. He reached into the pocket to find a small card attached to a golden key.

"We've got a new one." He called out softly, signalling for Sissela to come to his side. She stood from the couch and walked to his side, holding her own card and golden key in the palm of her hand. His smile faltered, "Different jobs?"

She shrugged. "People are becoming hopeless now. Look at Hyunwoo."

Nathan simply nodded in agreement, grabbing his camera bag from the coat hanger as he opened the door. "I'll see you tonight, then."

She waved her hand as a sign of acknowledgment, leaning back against the wall as the door closed. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall through.

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Nathan landed with a soft thud in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. He began to wander around, searching for the unlucky target that had been granted his company.

Soon, he found them. Slouched against a paling clay boulder with a gun in hand and blood pouring down the right side of their face. He sighed and reached into his pocket for a cloth before beginning to lightly dab at the blood.

The person's eyes shot open. They were golden, a fire blazing with fear and anger as they scrambled away from the unknown Grim Reaper.

"Hello." Nathan stated, his tone flat and heading lilting to the side in interest. "You look tired."

He tossed her the cloth and rose an eyebrow. The golden eyed girl frowned, "Aren't I dead?"

He chuckled and stood up, stretching his arms out before beginning to walk around again. "That's right. You're dead, dead, dead."

"Are you Death?"

Another laugh escaped his lips and he turned to look at her, quirking an eyebrow upwards as he did. He gestured to his light brown jean jacket, black shorts and white baseball cap. "Does this seem like something Death would wear?"

She shrugged, "I'm dumb, alright?" He sighed and sat down in front of her, taking his camera out of the bag and beginning to go through the photos. "Well then, what are you? Or... who are you?"

"I'm a Grim Reaper. You'll learn my name in due time."

There was silence for a moment as the girl thought of what to say.

"My name is Sera."

"Why'd you do it?" He asked her, not once looking up from the small screen.

"Because then he would've killed me first."

"Who?"

"The Archer."

Nathan looked up, staring the girl dead in the eye. He turned the camera off and frowned, "The Archer?"

"He's a serial killer in the Human Realm. Shoots his victims directly through the heart then mutilates their backs by drawing a bow and arrow on it."

He nodded, returning the camera to the bag and taking out his Death Scythe- a sword he called the Arcane Edge.

"I'm not Reaping you." He stated, standing up and leaving a confused Sera on the dusty ground. He took the key out of his pocket and held it up between two fingers, smiling as it glimmered in the sunlight. "You killed yourself. Sera Masito, your sentence is to take up the duty of Grim Reaper." She shot up and ran to his side, grabbing his arm. He continued to speak as he walked, ignoring her actions. "It is a requirement as we so brashly threw our lives away thinking we would be better off... or something like that. Anyways, in return, we must send those who lived their life fully and wholly, to their final resting place."

She let go of his arm, shock making a home on her face as she stumbled backwards, "Wh-"

"Just get along with it." He said.

He slashed through the air with his Scythe and a door appeared in front of them. He walked up to it, using the key to unlock it and open a portal to the Grim Reaper Realm.

He walked through after gesturing for her to follow him, welcoming the fresh midnight breeze that danced around his body as he entered. Sera's eyes went wide once again as they took in the sight around her.

Though the moment was short lived, as a bright light blinded both. Nathan turned once the light dimmed to see that another door had manifested and from there came Sissela and young man.

"Hey there, stranger." Sissela spoke softly, walking up to Nathan and Sera with the man right behind her. Her short white hair shifted in the wind and revealed the black leather patch over her eye. He smiled and looked at the man behind her. "Oh. That's Eric." The young man raised a trembling hand to wave and Nathan returned the gesture.

"We should get going. Adela doesn't like to wait."

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Eric and Sera had fallen far behind the two Grim Reapers, clearly still confused and scared by what was happening to them. They just wanted to be dead, they didn't want to become Grim Reapers. Yet what they wanted was their reason for being here.

Due to the distance between the pairs, they couldn't hear what the Reapers were talking about.

Nathan sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as Sissela spoke in soft whispers to him.

"Eric and Sera..." She began, fiddling with the bandages wrapped around her left wrist as he returned the cap to his head. He placed an arm on her shoulder, pulling her into his side. "They knew each other in their human lives. They were running from the same person." He rose an eyebrow, looking down at her as they walked.

"The Archer?"

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue looking forward before she spoke again, "I've heard the name before." He forced himself to continue walking, moving his arm down to Sissela's waist and pulling her closer.

"He sounds scary." He muttered, letting go of her to push a door open. He sighed, seeing how far behind the two were from them and raised his voice, "Hey, could you two hurry up? We're sort of on a tight schedule."

Eric's face twisted into an expression of annoyance, "What, do you have a date tonight?"

Sissela's face flushed red and she ducked into the room beneath Nathan's arm. He let out an annoyed sigh and called for the two to just hurry up before following her.

Sera giggled and began to walk faster, "You're mean, Eric."

"They're being too open about whatever they are." He replied, holding the door open for her before entering himself.

The two were met with a grand library. Thousands of books in a multitude of sizes and colours lined the candle lit shelves. But yet again, their amazement was cut short. This time by a particularly loud and annoyed cough coming from the other end of the room.

"Nathan, Sissela. Why are they late?" A finely polished female voice arose from the couch. Eric and Sera turned around to see the back of a woman's head. Her long black hair was pulled back into a braid that ended only at her waistline.

She stood and turned around, revealing her soft bespectacled face and grey eyes. She wore long grey thigh high socks, heeled black leather shoes and a tight leather waistcoat. The coat was adorned with a golden trident head prints on each shoulder, silver buttons and a midnight blue gem resting on the belt buckle. Her hands were hidden by sleek black gloves, and in one she held a black and golden metal cane by the head.

She tapped the foot of the cane against the floor, staring pointedly at the couple beside her, "I asked you a question."

"Sorry, Miss A." Nathan began, removing his hand from Sissela's to reach into his pocket and return the golden key to Adela. "Those two are slow walkers." He glared at Eric over Adela's shoulder.

She sighed and took the key between her nimble fingers, tucking it into her waistcoat's single pocket before sitting down once again.

"Eric, Sera, sit with me. You lovebirds, you can leave."

Just as Nathan and Sissela reached the door, she called out for the photographer once again, "Actually... stay here. You have a photo to take."

A smile appeared on Nathan's face and he reached for the camera hanging off the strap on his left shoulder. He leaned into Sissela's ear and whispered, "Meet me at the beach later, alright? I'll finish up as quickly as possible."

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"Sissela." He whispered, running a hand up her arm and pulling the bandages away from the scarred skin. "You're so beautiful." He kissed her forehead and took his hand into hers, tracing over the dried cuts that decorated her knuckles and wrists. "I love you."

She chuckled softly, locking her fingers between his and burying her face into his shoulder. "You're too good to me."

A soft smile graced his lips and he wrapped his arms around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Her woolen white shawl fell from her shoulders as she pulled away and reached for his camera.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" She asked, turning it on and smiling at the soul-stealing photos he took of the two brand Grim Reapers. Clearly, whatever Adela had said scared them shitless. They had gotten the bad end of the deal on their first night. "They were supposed to get Yuki, no?"

He nodded, picking up her shawl and wrapping it around her lithe frame before pulling her into his arms once again.

"What did Adela tell them?" She whispered, nestling in the warmth of his body and turning the camera off. Sighing softly, she closed her eyes as she rested her head against his chest.

"That if they didn't do this, she'd kill them again herself."

She let out a breathy laugh, "Didn't she said that to you on your first night here?"

"Yeah, she was way more graphic though."

"Well, Mister, how well do you think she did with her warnings?"

"Scared the shit out of me." His voice was tinted with annoyance, and she felt him shift before taking her arms away from her and returning her small hands to his.

She opened her eyes, looking upwards and peppering his jawline with kisses, "Mhm... I'd say otherwise."

"Whatever you say, lovely girl."

"Shut up..."

"Why?"

"Because you-"

Her reply was interrupted by a sudden flash of light along the shore. Taekwoon appeared once the light had died down, clearly annoyed by whatever he been doing down in the Human Realm. He shrugged his navy blue overcoat off, folding it over his free arm as he trudged upwards to the fields.

"Sir!" Nathan called out, helping Sissela up before jogging up to him, "What's with the long face?"

"You call me sir, yet you speak as if we are close." Taekwoon mumbled, dropping the coat on a nearby bench and taking up the Santa Muerte with a sigh.

Nathan ducked out of the way, pushing Sissela behind him as the elder swung it onto his back and glanced over at him, "Chiara sent me to take care of one of her Collections. I didn't think she'd be friends with a human."

"Wow... is the legendary Reaper Jung Taekwoon jealous?"

He glared at the photographer, the scythe traveling from his backside to his hand in a matter of moments.

Holding the curved blade beneath Nathan's chin, Taekwoon spoke again, "I am not jealous. I am merely confused as to why she'd allow a simple argument with him get in the way of her duties as a Reaper."

Nathan put his hands up in a mock surrender, carefully backing away from the blade and returning to Sissela's side. "Whatever you say."

"Don't you have a new soul to steal?" He questioned, the scythe returned to his back as he gathered his coat.

A whistle flew through the air and Sissela raised her hand just in time to catch a golden key. She smiled softly at Taekwoon before taking Nathan's hand and opening a door to Purgatory with the Jewel Sword.


	6. Patch Me Up

"I'm sorry, but I like what I'm doing right now. I'm not interested in joining any organizations." Wonshik declared, downing the last of his coffee with a sigh. He gave Jackie an apologetic smile and continued, "But... I can give you some information on who the Archer is and why he does what he does. After all, you are talking to another uncaught serial killer."  
  
"What do you think, Jackie?" Luke turned to her for confirmation, making sure they could trust this killer before asking anything else. Jackie nodded, prompting for him to continue. He looked back at the man before him, "Alright, what do you know, Wonshik?"  
  
"The Archer and I came from the same place. Darkness, silver halls, blood drenched beds. He was my best friend." Wonshik popped a strawberry half into his mouth, "I left that place before him. So of course, he's much stronger in terms of their experiments on him. He's also much more angry at, well, humans than I am."  
  
Marcelo rose a brow, pulling at the bracelets on his wrist, "Why?"  
  
"Why?" Wonshik echoed, standing from the couch and walking towards the kitchen so he could clean his coffee mug. "Because he thinks that everyone wants to hurt him." He frowned, "He used to be so kind. So loving and playful. But when they killed his sisters and parents, he was scarred. He hated humans. He hated the world. He hated _anything_ and _anyone_ happier than him."  
  
Luke's eyes became sorrowful, "Can you give us a name?"  
  
Wonshik placed the mug on the drying rack and returned to the living room. He handed them a photo from his wallet and said, "His name is Lee Hongbin. Don't hurt him."  
  
"We won't." Jackie said, standing from the couch and taking the photo from him.  
  
As the three began to take their leave, Jackie placed the photo in her back pocket and walked through the open door.  
  
"And Jackie," Wonshik called. She turned around, "When you find him... If you find him, come get me."

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"...bin!" Darkness. A sliver of light. Hope? "Hongbin!" _Is that... my name?_ "Dude, wake up!" _Stop... shaking... my... body... GODDAMMIT THAT HURTS YOU KNOW!?_  
  
His eyes flickered open, taking into account the blurred silver colour that covered the room they were in. He shivered. Why was it so cold?  
  
"For fuck's sake." He turned his head to see his friend's blurred figure kneeling down beside him, "You were out for hours! I thought you were dead..."  
  
He groaned, flexing his fingers to see if he could feel them. "Is Butt alive?" He asked as his friend finally came into focus.  
  
His friend furrowed his brow, then his expression turned to worry and anger as he tried to recall whether or not his dog was in the room at the time. "I... I don't know."  
  
"Shik… gah... do you know where we are?" He groaned as he pushed himself up and sat limp against the cold metal wall, his skin jumping at the sudden change  in temperature.  
  
The sixteen year old boy shook his head, pulling his legs towards his chest and hugging them tight. He was shivering, scared, and hungry. He wanted to get out of here. He... he didn't know what he wanted.  
  
Hongbin let himself cry into Wonshik's shoulder, surprising the older boy. Wonshik let go of his legs and hugged Hongbin, trying his best to soothe him. "We'll get out of here."  
  
"What if we're already dead?"   
  
Wonshik let go of him and pushed him away playfully, "Seriously?"  
  
Hongbin frowned, looking down at the red stained floor, then at his bloody palms and sleeve cuffs. His lower lip began to tremble and the tears spilt again, mixing with the blood and dirt on his face. Slowly, he pulled his aching legs towards his body and hugged himself, trying to think of anything except the situation they were in right now. He began to look around, hoping to find an exit. _Just focus on getting out._  
  
Wonshik stood up, walking up to the bulletproof glass that separated them from those outside. The people walking by paid no heed to them, they simply walked past in their white and blue doctor's robes. He frowned and watched them pass by, partially ignoring Hongbin's frantic shaking.  
  
"Hey, Kong." He called, staring down the busy hall. His eyes caught onto the dull red glow of an exit sign. "Kong!" He turned around and Hongbin looked up at him with wide eyes. "There's an exit."  
  
Hongbin carefully pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to his friend, using Wonshik's shoulder as support. "How will we get out?" He asked him as he finally gained enough strength to stand on his own.   
  
"We wait until they take us out on their account. If we force our way through..."  
  
"We'd die."  
  
"For sure."  
  
The two shared a look, the elder rose his eyebrows, sensing that his friend wanted to say something. In return, the younger pulled his lips into a tight line and looked away.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hongbin whispered, concern shining bright in his brown eyes, "That guy kicked your gut really hard... twice."  
  
"At least I wasn't out for like six hours." Wonshik replied, turning away from the glass wall and taking his place on the cold floor once again.  
  
His eyes fluttered shut, welcoming the darkness as he tried to ignore his feelings as he sat there. His body ached inside and out, begging for rest and comfort. For protection and peace. For safety.  
  
He felt Hongbin sit down beside him. The boy stayed quiet, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
_One awake and true;_  
_One asleep and lying._  
 _Yet both ended up the same;_  
 _Bloody and crying._  
                      ~ L.M.C

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_Don't look at the people. That only makes you feel worse._  
  
A gun shot rang out in the dead of the night, rousing a commotion in the streets of Kingsdale. People were dashing out of the streets and into shops, clubs and restaurants for cover. Hiding behind trees and benches and whatnot as he fired into the crowd once again.  
  
_Just hit them. Kill them all. It doesn't matter who gets hurt now. As long as I can get away with it._  
  
He ducked his head, and pulled another pistol from his sling holster. Now brandishing two weapons, he dashed through the dispersing crowd, shooting anyone who dared to stand in his way.  
  
In the blink of an eye, everyone seemed to die.  
  
He looked up, coming face to face with another masked man. "Hades."  
  
"Archer."  
  
The man called Hades, brushed past him after replying, pulling his sword- Hades' Edge- from his backside with one hand and loading his gun- the Devil's Marksman- with the other.  
  
His lithe body danced through the darkness as he fought off the officers coming their way. Slaying each and every one with Hell birthed weapons.  
  
Hongbin joined the fray, discarding his now emptied guns on the cement and reaching for his bow- the Failnaught.  
  
Blood and wine red joined hands in a wild dance, backing each other and ridding their pathway of all in front of them. The two moved swiftly, almost invisible to the naked eye.  
  
The battle ended as Hongbin sent one last arrow flying through an unfortunate officer, leaving the streets blood filled and littered with bodies. He smiled beneath his mask, slinging the Failnaught over his left shoulder and looking around.  
  
"Should we wait for them?"  
  
Hades' smooth voice interrupted his moment of triumph, and Hongbin turned around.  
  
"Give them five minutes."  
  
Hades nodded, collecting IDs and badges from each of the fallen officers, discarding them in the sewage deposits on the sides of the road. He picked one up and placed it in his pocket. _Just in case._  
  
A few minutes passed and four people appeared. Half of them humans, the others Reapers.  
  
"Hermes. Sculptor." Hongbin called out to the two humans, a smug smirk plastered on his face. "You're late."  
  
"You cleaned up nicely." Hermes said, the Seven Star Sword in his hand was coated in with blood and dirt, dulling its usual blue shine. He pushed his hood back, revealing a disgusted expression drenched in interest.  
  
"Less victims maybe?" Sculptor added, his voice laced with sarcasm as he carved symbols into one of the dead officer's arms with his Starsteel Twin Daggers. "Actually... it looks beautiful. An unrivalled piece of art."  
  
Hades rolled his eyes, turning to the two working Reapers behind them. "Ah... it's you two again."  
  
The one wielding the Dainsleif looked up from the blood beneath his feet. Black hair framed his face, softening the shape of his sharp jawline and accentuating the glow of his cat-like grey eyes. His open black jacket fluttered in the wind, its golden bronze buttons glittering in the moonlight. He reached backwards, removing the Dainsleif from his back and stabbing it into the body below him in one swift movement.  
  
"Are you getting tired of me, Hakyeon?" He spoke in a soft but strong tone, raising an eyebrow as the soul of the body beneath him was retracted into the blade. He stepped away from the body and continued to slash and stab into the surrounding bodies.  
  
Hakyeon scoffed, swinging his sword onto his back and shifting all his weight onto one foot. "Not at all, Yuki."  
  
Yuki's partner cleared his throat, shutting his eyes as a fountain of blood erupted beside him. Hermes' smile faltered, "Sorry, JP. I thought I saw him move."  
  
He frowned, pulling the Tachyon Blade from its sheath and reaping the soul of the man Hermes had just killed, "Mister Lee... I would've appreciated a heads up."  
  
Suddenly, a sea of souls flew from the street, taking both JP and Yuki by surprise.  
  
"Shit!" Yuki exclaimed, "JP, we took too long, we gotta get out of here before-"  
  
A bright light blinded all six men, even going as far as sending JP's thin figure to the ground and drenching his light blue jean jacket and white t-shirt in blood.   
  
When the light died down, the four murderers were gone, leaving Yuki and JP in the hands of a female Reaper.  
  
Her short black hair cascaded in waves down the left side of her face, matching perfectly with her black, long sleeved lace and leather top,  
gloves and shorts. Her steel tipped heels clicked against the cement as she walked towards the two. A cold, burning aura radiating off her persona as she came to a stop, the barrel of her gun- Kelte- pressed firmly against the side of Yuki's head as she spoke.   
  
"The Living aren't our business. The Dead are. Stop messing around with those  _things_ and make sure to actually do your job."  
  
JP stood up, grimacing at the blood dripping onto his ripped jeans and white sneakers. His teal eyes turned to the weapon brandishing woman before him, "You could've been a bit less forceful, you know?"  
  
"Finish up here."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." He did a mock salute, and returned to Reaping souls as Yuki stood up.  
  
"Rosalina, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't apologize. Just get back to work." She turned away from him with a smug smirk, shooting a single bullet into the open air so she could create a rift. "Don't tell Adela I was here."


	7. The Archer and the Ghost

Morning arrived the next day with no warning, pulling Hongbin from his bed with a blinding light. He turned in his bed, rubbing his eyes with one hand and pushing himself upwards with the other. He sat up straight and stretched his arms, accidently hitting the arm of the man sleeping in the bunk above him.  
  
He smacked the man's arm again, this time with the task of waking him up. "Sanghyuk. Get up."  
  
When he received no answer, he smacked Sanghyuk's arm once more, harder this time. "HERMES! GET! UP!" He yelled, accentuating each word with a harsh slap.  
  
"HONGBIN, WHAT THE FUCK-" Sanghyuk growled, whacking the elder's arm away and pulling his makeshift covers over his head. Hongbin scoffed, getting off his bunk and standing up straight.  
  
He yanked Sanghyuk's covers off, dropping them to the dust covered floor.  
  
"Get. Up." His voice was decorated with ice, no longer competing to see who could last longer between the two.  
  
Sanghyuk rolled over and glared at him. He sat up straight as he rubbed his eyes. "Why do you have to be so rough with waking me up!?" He asked, jumping off his bunk.  
  
Hongbin shrugged, grabbing his grey hoodie from the wooden chair beside them and pulling it over his head as he moved about the room. He pushed the door open, the smell of caffeine and fresh toast fully awakening him.  
  
He walked down the hall and into the kitchen, greeting the other two residents before beginning to eat.  
  
"Hey, Hongbin."  
  
"What's up, Jaehwan?" He called, not turning around.  
  
"We're on the news again." He replied, putting the volume of the TV up so that everyone could hear.  
  
"Wow, we must be famous." Hongbin rolled his eyes as he turned in the chair, leaning against the island as the newscaster spoke of lasts night's events.  
  
_"...the fifth time this month that the so called Midnight Marauders have struck the streets of Kingsdale. This time leaving behind a bloody scene of civilians and cops. The reason for their continuous stretch of heinous crimes is still unkno-"_  
  
The woman was interrupted by Jaehwan abruptly shutting the TV off.  
  
"It's because humans are shit!" Though the words rolled off Hongbin's tongue with little to no humour, they brought a sharp laugh to light on the tip of Hakyeon's tongue, causing him to turn around and raise an eyebrow.  
  
From behind the counter, Hakyeon smirked. "Then tell me, Archer," he braced his elbows against the marble and stared Hongbin dead in the eye, "What would that make us?" The look in his eye was extremely unsettling to the young man, causing him to experience something he hadn't experienced in years.  
  
Hongbin frowned, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the older man and continue eating the piece of toast in front of him. He focused on ignoring the other three men conversing in the room. He only looked up when he heard a very certain name come up as they spoke.  
  
He grimaced and turned, "Why are you talking about  _him_?" He asked, a sharp, stinging venom laced his tone as he glared at them.  
  
"Why wouldn't we talk about him?" Jaehwan retaliated, an evil smirk gracing his lips- and to be honest, it didn't look threatening at all. "He is your overall target anyways."  
  
He rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the chair and brushing past the three to return to his room, "If you want to talk about that traitor... don't ever do it in front of me."

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Night fell upon Kingsdale too quickly for Hongbin's liking. It always did. Despite his preference for the indoors, he liked it when the sun was shining bright. The light would try and fill in the dark spots of his soul, pulsing through his veins and energizing him.  
  
At night, he received none of that energy. Rather, he got the solidarity of the moon and the blankness of the stars. The midnight blue backdrop made it harder for him to be happy, as it reminded him of a certain someone he was no longer interested in.  
  
He turned a corner, ignoring the wary looks by passers were giving him. Silently thanking Hakyeon for casting a glamour upon his weapon when they had first met. Which meant the only reason people were staring at him was how suspicious he looked.  
  
He continued walking until he arrived at a five story building, a golden light pooling from the window of his next victim. A nasty grin bit at his lips and he began to climb up the fire escape, making his way to the fourth floor.  
  
A scream came from the apartment and he grimaced. _Not one of pleasure. Who's hurting her?_  
  
He sped up and removed the glamour from his bow and getting ready to shoot the moment he arrived at the open window.  
  
_It's o_ _pen?_  
  
He stared in through the window, eyes piercing through the man holding his victim against the wall, knife pressed against her jugular vein.  
  
"She's mine." He snarled, alerting the man of his presence and letting the arrow fly from his bow. It skimmed the man's torso before impaling the woman's chest. He shot again, this time aiming at the wall behind the man's head. A warning.  
  
The man didn't flinch, dropping the woman's dead body. He carefully pulled his cap and mask off to reveal a familiar face. Hongbin frowned, drawing his bow and aiming directly at the man's neck.  
  
"Give me one good reason not to kill you."  
  
The man shrugged, glancing at the woman's dead eyes as he flipped the knife in his hand. "I'm glad you're alive."  
  
"That's not an answer." Hongbin said, his hold on the riser of his bow tightening as he spoke. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't send a goddamned arrow through you, Wonshik."  
  
Wonshik chuckled, his eyes going soft. "I'm sorry."  
  
_Don't you dare apologize. Not after you betrayed me._ He wanted to scream, lash out at him. But he didn't. "I swear, if you don't answer me, I will shoot!"  
  
"If that's what makes you happy, do it." He replied, eyes locking with Hongbin's as he drew another throwing knife from his belt.  
  
Hongbin let go of the arrow, allowing it to fly through the air towards Wonshik's neck. He dodged it just in time, the arrow lodging itself in the stone wall.  
  
He released arrow after arrow, his speed and stamina unrelenting with this new pump of adrenaline. Yet, his old friend continued to dodge and deflect them, sending them to either the floor or wall until he ran out of arrows.  
  
He was only slightly content that his arrows had graced Wonshik's face and limbs, leaving scratches that were sure to lightly scar. Hongbin turned and escaped into the night, not bothering to leave his mark of doom.  
  
This left Wonshik somewhat alone in the cold apartment, eyes shining with remorse and intrigue due to how his old friend had greeted him. _He thinks I want to hurt him._  
  
He began to clean up, slipping his throwing knives into their rightful places. He paused as he remembered the anger burning in Hongbin's eyes when he had realized who he was. _Or maybe I already have._  
  
The silence was broken by a cold blast of wind, signalling the arrival of a divine being in the area.  
  
"Oh. It's you again." Wonshik muttered, turning around as he wrenched one of Hongbin's forgotten arrows from the wall.  
  
"I'm guessing this one was a fighter?" The Reaper asked, pulling his scythe from his back and Reaping the dead woman lying on the floor with one swift motion.  
  
He nodded as an answer, leaning against the stone walls of the apartment. Quirking an eyebrow, the killer spoke again, "Is Chiara mad at me?"  
  
Taekwoon rolled his eyes, returning Santa Muerte to his back and sitting atop one of the island stools. "She didn't say anything about being mad." The man sighed, letting the back of his head hit the wall in disdain. "But, she did mention a fight."  
  
Wonshik bolted upright, almost stumbling as he ran up to Taekwoon. "Does she have a Collection tonight?"  
  
There was silence as Taekwoon tried to recall who had Collections in the surrounding area and time. He looked down at his feet and sighed. The Reaper shook his head, tentatively pushing the human away with his hand and getting off the stool. He drew the Santa Muerte once again, preparing to open a rift.  
  
A cold wind flew through the apartment, accompanied by the distant sound of police sirens. Wonshik smirked, grabbing his cap off the table and making his way to the fire exit.  
  
As he stepped into the cold night air, Taekwoon spoke once more. His voice firm and strong, yet meddling with a worried tone.  
  
"Don't be surprised if I appear to you more often. Chiara holds grudges. Especially when it comes to the people she's closest to... _physically_ hurting her."


	8. A Drink, A Hug, A Nightmare

Dawn had yet to grace its bearings upon Kingsdale's gloomy streets. The sounds of cars, motorbikes and buses mixed in the crisp air. At this time, very few people were awake, taking their time with where they were going as they walked.  
  
Birds flew in majestic patterns across the grey skies, making it look as if there was more to life than the monotonous aesthetic that the city loved. The quiet gave off a sense of peace and comfort, providing a perfect environment for two unlikely new friends.  
  
Taekwoon and Wonshik were together at the top of the latter's residence. The off-duty Reaper no longer wielded his scythe, leaning nonchalantly against a wooden crate as the sky slowly began to clear.  
  
The killer was nursing his third can of beer in the palm of his hand, hoping now it would be easier for him to speak to the man before him. Yet, Taekwoon spoke first, his words weary and worry-filled.  
  
"I haven't seen Chiara like this in a while. What happened between the two of you?" He asked, picking up one of the pebbles and tossing it into the air before catching it. He repeated this as Wonshik replied, nodding his head slowly in understanding.  
  
"...but still, I regret hurting her. She just doesn't understand my situation anymore." Wonshik finished, tossing his empty beer can to the side. He glanced over at Taekwoon. "She must be really important to you."  
  
"She's the only family I know." Taekwoon didn't meet Wonshik's gaze, keeping his eyes set on the slowly burning horizon. He threw the rock over the ledge, not bothering to listen for its proof of hitting the ground.  
  
Wonshik nodded, "I understand that feeling. It wrecks you they aren't happy." He stood from his position against the door and went to Taekwoon's side. He sat down beside the Reaper, who glanced over at him in surprise. "I don't mean to pry... but why did you do it?"  
  
"Do you mean becoming a Reaper?" The man tore his gaze from the horizon, meeting Wonshik's eyes for a brief moment before speaking again. "There was trouble in my family. My father was bound to die soon and they wanted me to marry so we could continue the family line. I was sixteen. Of course, I had no intention to actually marry the woman they brought before me. I hated my bloodline either way, there was no wish for me to continue it. So..."  
  
"Instead you ended it."  
  
The Reaper nodded, his eyes glassing over. Raising a hand to his face, Taekwoon wiped away the threat of tears, letting his head hang in disappointment. "I shouldn't have done that. They cared for me so much. I was selfish. I was stupid and selfish."  
  
Wonshik paused, trying to decide whether or not to give the older man a hug. He choose to do it, pushing away any doubts and wrapping his arms around him.  
  
The man tensed, he had long been a stranger to the feeling of another person's warmth. He could feel Wonshik's breath hot against his neck as he returned the embrace. _God, no. Not again_.  
  
When the killer let go, he felt empty again, the cold air enveloping his body with its killer tendrils. He looked away, trying his best to hide the confusion in his eyes as he asked, "Why?"  
  
"You needed it, I could tell." He whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. Patting it, he looked up at the now rising sun. It burnt brightly against the gloomy sky and bathing the two with it's warmth. "Also, I'm just past the point of tipsy-ness and it's like five in the morning. I should probably sober up."  
  
He pushed himself off the ground, stumbling over his feet but managing to steady himself with some help from Taekwoon.  
  
"Yeah, you're not taking the stairs like this." The Reaper mumbled to himself. He summoned his scythe from the Grim Reaper Realm and used it to teleport the two into Wonshik's apartment. "I hope I got the right one."  
  
Wonshik blinked and looked around, nodding to assure him that he had gotten the correct apartment. The elder smiled lightly and helped him onto the couch. "At least you're not... full on drunk." He said, "But, may I ask you something?"  
  
The man nodded, an arm splayed over his eyes as he laid there.  
  
"I'll get straight to the point, then. Why do you kill?"  
  
"Bloodlust?" Wonshik turned over, peering at the Reaper under his arm. He almost tumbled off the couch, but Taekwoon caught him with the flat of his blade. "I dunno. I used to kill to get revenge and ta-da, I got it. Now, it's probably just because I'm crazy in some sort of aspect." He laughed, head hitting the leather armrest. Before Taekwoon could give his opinion, the killer spoke again, "It hurts. Not being able to stop it. I don't want to keep hurting them, but my mind hasn't been running alongside my heart. And that's causing problems."  
  
He ruffled the younger man's hair, standing up as a soft whistle signalled him being on Purgatory Duty with Chiara. "Alright, I've got to go. I trust you can take care of yourself." He mumbled, opening a rift and taking one last look at Wonshik before leaving.  
  
Leaving him alone in his current state wasn't exactly the smartest idea, but Taekwoon was right. He could manage on his own. Chanwoo was here either way.   
  
_Wait... where is that kid?_  
  
He shook the thought away, reassuring himself that the boy would be fine, seeing as he couldn't go further than the lobby doors.  
  
Pushing himself back onto the couch, he groaned. _Why now?_   
  
He fought off his drowsiness, knowing very well what would happen once he fell asleep. The moment his eyes would close, he was sent into a lucid dream. One he didn't want to be in at all. It was the night he had killed the mastermind behind his family's death.

_His eyes were painted red; hysteria, anger and sadness evident in their irises._ _He charged at the taller man, dagger poised and ready to kill. But just as its tip began to draw blood, he moved back, staring up at the night sky. He fell to his knees.  
  
This was wrong. What was he thinking?   
  
He shouldn't be doing this._  
  
 _Slowly, the taller man began to let out a crazed laughter, ridiculing him for not being able to kill._ _With an anger burning bright in his chest, he rose to his knees, burying the dagger deep in the jester's neck._ _He watched as the man choked on the blood rising in his throat.  
  
The man staggered backwards, tripping over his own feet and sending himself to the icy below. When Wonshik looked over the edge, he felt the urge to smile. He realized, he liked the way the man's blood stained the water.  
_  
 _But his smile disappeared when as soon as he realized where he was._  
  
 _Oh God. What had he done!? He just killed... he killed someone. No... No... He couldn't have. It's not possible._   
  
I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer. I'm not-   
  
_He was_ _a killer._  
  
Wonshik awoke with a start, a sheet of sweat covering his forehead and his heart pounding against his chest. He clasped his shaking hands together, taking in deep breaths and squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
A familiar voice asking if he was alright broke the pattern of his panic and his eyes shot open, darting around the room frantically. When he saw Chanwoo's transparent figure in the corner of his eye, he sighed in relief.  
  
His flickering friend smiled, his gaze scanning over Wonshik's body with care.   
  
"Mister Kim, are you alright?"  
  
"It was just a nightmare," he managed to speak in a soft voice. His heart rate began to slow, returning to its regular pace as he laid there.


	9. I Curse My Stars

Taekwoon and Chiara's Purgatory duty ended up being quite uneventful. Very few souls were being sent to their jurisdiction and there was a new feeling burning within the elder. He didn't dare to speak of it, worried that this could cost him the past 500 years of their friendship. He shut his eyes, trying not to think too much of it, but each time he believed himself to be distracted, the killer's chocolate brown eyes pulled him back.  
  
After another hour of silence, Fiona and Shoichi entered Purgatory, signalling the end of their shift. Chiara left without a word, her pale pink hair fluttering in the wind as she stepped through her rift.  
  
As much as he wished to follow her, Taekwoon knew when his friend needed to be alone and when she wanted him to go after her. So, he went his own way, heading to the place he called home and sitting on the balcony.  
  
Leaning his head back against the stone wall, Taekwoon welcomed the fresh night air, dancing in swirls around his head and wrapping its arms around his body. He sighed, staring up at the stars decorating the night sky.  
  
Cassiopeia smiled down at him among the millions of stars, as if she knew what was going through his mind.  
  
He frowned, letting his head hang over his lap as he finally allowed himself to think.  
  
He had only felt this once in his entire lifetime. It was when he was alive, before the marriage was arranged. For whom, he could not remember, but he knew he had felt the tingling sensation once before. In a flurry of kisses and sequence of peaceful nights, he had once been in love, and his parents had denied him of it by throwing another person onto his plate.  
  
With a sigh, he pushed himself off the ground, returning inside.  
  
The walls of stone looked as they always did; bland and disorienting. The single photo frame hanging off showcased him and his superiors relaxing for once, smiles decorating their faces and drinks in hand.  
  
He carefully pried the frame off the wall, turning it over to see a piece of paper tucked away in its hold. He took it out, staring at the small drawing of him and the man he had loved so long ago.  
  
"You were... special to me, yet I can't even remember your name. Your face is embedded in my memories, yet I fear I have already Reaped your soul," he mumbled to himself. He returned the frame to its rightful place on the wall before sitting down with the drawing in hand.  
  
He began to try his best to rid the paper of wrinkles, frowning when he saw the somewhat ripped edges. _  
  
"I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe, that made my love so high and me so low."_  
  
Once he was satisfied with the drawing, he placed it on the coffee table and went back out onto his balcony.  
  
As he took as deep breath in, he listened to what was going on around him. The sound of Zahir and Hyunwoo going hand to hand, a gun shot ringing from the range and swords clashing against one another echoed through his ears. He stood there until he was drawn out of the noise by another; the sound of a metal cane tapping against his hardwood floors.  
  
He turned around to see the familiar almond shaped eyes of Adela. She had changed from her trademark black outfit to white dress pants with golden embellishments along the pant cuffs paired with a matching fitted suit jacket and black double belt. Her cane had changed as well, the black crook handle was now a white and golden t-handle cane.  
  
She leaned lightly on it, titling her head to the side as she looked at the drawing on the coffee table.  
  
"Adela."  
  
_"O should she e'er prove false, his limbs I'd tear and throw all pity on the burning air; I'd curse bright fortune for my mixed lot, and then I'd die in peace, and be forgot."  
  
_He chuckled, gesturing for her to sit down. She smiled at him and took the seat beside him, eyes returning to the drawing. Her lips parted and she looked at him again, "A past lover?"  
  
He nodded, picking the paper back up and inspecting the drawing. The man's sharp nose and soft eyes had been captured perfectly by the pen, making him look even more endearing than he had when they were together.  
  
Taekwoon sighed, oblivious to the look on Adela's face as he spoke, "From what I remember, he was kind. So very kind..."  He trailed off, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, "We spent almost every single day together behind our parents' backs. I just wish..."  
  
"You had taken the chance?" Adela finished. She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. She carefully inspected the expression on his face, telling her she was right. "It's alright. I understand. I've been in that exact position before."  
  
He looked at her and she smiled before continuing, "We're immortal and that gives us all the time in the world to think about our past lives. Eventually, we regret what we did."  
  
"I just don't know what's happening to me now." He mumbled, carding a hand through his raven hair. "I'm feeling _everything_ I felt with him, just now that I'm a Reaper, it's different. It feels a hundred times more pressuring."  
  
She hummed, patting his shoulder before she stood up, placing all her weight on her cane as she did.  
  
"It's Chiara's human friend, isn't it?" She smiled at him sweetly, bangs falling to the right.  
  
"Yes." His answer was soft, just barely audible.   
  
What felt like a jolt of electricity ran through him. Without flinching, he stared at the drawing, fully aware of the droplets forming in his eyes as Adela returned a memory to him out of pure sympathy.  
  
"I once loved a demon and now I've fallen for a killer."  
  
With that, she took her leave, tapping the foot of her cane against the wooden floors and vanishing.  
  
He didn't look up, his gaze glued to the photo before him. He didn't bother to stop his tears from spilling over, the droplets splashing onto the floor. They sparkled in the low light, taunting him as more joined them.  
  
_"Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence,"_ he whispered to himself, wiping away the tears. He buried his face in his hands, "But I am not human, so why must I go through this horrific feeling again?"  
  
As the tears threatened to fall again, Taekwoon sighed, putting the photo away before deciding what he needed was rest.  
  
He took his shirt off as walked into his washroom, tossing it into a dark corner. He stared at himself in the mirror, puffy eyes and all. "I... I need a break from this entire thing."  
  
Rosalina's voice chuckled in the far corners of his mind, her words taunting and cold.  
  
_"You fell for a human. You deserve this."_  
  
He frowned and splashed cold water onto his face, meeting his eyes in the mirror once again. Water trickled down his face and onto the sink counter, bringing the aftermath of his tears along with it.  
  
"Get out of my head," he mumbled, shutting the water off.  
  
He grabbed a towel and began to dry his face, walking towards his bed.  
  
He laid down, tossing the towel to the side and stared up at the white ceiling until his eyes fluttered shut, sending him to dreamless slumber.

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

When he awoke, he could only see red. Wherever he was, it most definitely wasn't the Grim Reaper Realm. As he sat up, a cold wind engulfed his bare upper body, causing him to shiver and hug himself.  
  
Taekwoon looked around, relief flooding his senses as he saw a familiar face coming his way. The blue-green leather jacket, fingerless white leather gloves, black riding boots and leggings; they were an all too familiar sight. As the red-headed woman made his way towards him, he realized he was in Cocytus.  
  
"Lieutenant," he mumbled, not meeting the woman's jade eyes as she sat down in front of him. "Why am I here?"  
  
Fiona shrugged.  
  
When he finally looked up at her, he realized her sword was nowhere to be seen. It was rare for her not to have Masamune within arm's reach, which meant that there was either no real threat in the area or Cocytus' guards had stopped her from summoning the blade.  
  
He no longer knew whether to keep his guard up or fully relax, but the look on her face told him to do the latter.  
  
"Rosalina is probably pulling one of her Punishment moves again, nothing new." Fiona replied, leaning back and using her arms as a balance. She smiled at Taekwoon, head tilting ever-so-slight to the left, "But seeing you here, that's brand new. It's usually Chiara, JP, Yuki and I."  
  
"I've been dealing with one of Chiara's human friends lately." He tried to summon a shirt for himself, but it didn't work. So, he changed the subject. "Why does Rosalina even do this? What does she have against humans?"  
  
"Hmm..." Fiona thought hard, her jade eyes contradicted the red of the skies, making it look like some sort of war between the two colours was taking place within her irises. "Adela would know. She's the only person Rosalina trusts."  
  
"Makes sense. You said Yuki and JP are usually are here," Taekwoon continued, lying back on the shining black floors. "Where are-"  
  
"Taekwoon?" He was interrupted by the man he was talking of, black hair and all. "Holy shit, did you and Chiara switch personalities? You like never speak to humans."  
  
He glared at Yuki, chuckling softly when his superior put his hands up in a mock surrender.  
  
"Oh well, might as well make the most of it."


	10. Bloody Lips & Red Nights

_What the hell happened last night... and what time is it?_ Wonshik groaned, a horrible headache practically splitting his brain in two. He pressed the palms of his hands against his temples as he sat up, eyes squeezing shut.  
  
He could feel the cold air swirling around him as Chanwoo suddenly appeared at his side, asking if he was alright. As soon as he could find the peace of mind to open his eyes, he did and rolled them as well, ignoring the ghost's question.  
  
Carefully, he stood up, placing a hand on the wall to support himself as he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Whatever had taken place last night and in the early hours of the morning, was an entirely fuzzy piece of his memory. All he knew was that he had been with Taekwoon for most of the night.  
  
Speaking of which, where was the Reaper? Wonshik was unable to remember if he had left, nor could he recall them entering his apartment…  
  
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He turned around, his senses heightened as he warily approached it.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"It's Taekwoon..." A muffled voice said from the other side. He chuckled, was Taekwoon really coming to visit on his own time? Or was he just making sure he was alright?  
  
_Probably the latter..._   
Wonshik walked up to the door and opened it, smiling warmly when the Reaper's tired eyes looked up at him. He let him in and Chanwoo disappeared.  
  
"You look like you've been through Hell and back," Wonshik teased, returning to the kitchen to make coffee for the two of them. Taekwoon responded with a groan, falling onto the couch and covering his face with his hands. The scent of caffeine began to fill the small apartment and soon, he returned with two steaming mugs in hand. He sat down beside Taekwoon and held the mug out for him. He graciously took it, taking a sip and closing his eyes as he felt the warmth coursing through his body.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Taekwoon took a deep breath in, placing the mug on the table in front of him and leaning back against the couch.  
  
"I just spent my entire night in Cocytus dealing with two of the most _annoying_ Reapers I've ever met."  
  
"Really now? One must have been Chiara, if not... that'll just make me feel worse for you." Wonshik took a sip of his coffee and looked at Taekwoon.  
  
"Then your feelings will be spent on nothing but my whining," Taekwoon replied, "Yuki and JP are fucking scoundrels."  
  
"Since when did you swear?"  
  
"Ever since I figured out what the word whore meant."  
  
Wonshik blinked twice.  
  
"Yeah, that wasn't funny. Sorry about that." Taekwoon quickly apologized, pressing his lips into a tight line and looking away. This caused the younger to laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I didn't say anything was wrong, I just don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed."  
  
"Cocytus is quite calming..." He trailed off, finding himself staring at side view of Wonshik's face. He pulled his gaze away and looked down.  
  
"Isn't that where you guys get sent if you speak to humans?"  
  
"Yes." Taekwoon reached out for his coffee again, sighing in relief as his grogginess slowly left him. "Chiara is most known for being sent there."  
  
"My fault," the boy mumbled sheepishly. This earned him a quiet laugh from Taekwoon.  
  
It was silent for a moment before Wonshik spoke up again, "Won't you be sent again if you keep talking to me?"  
  
Taekwoon shrugged, running a hand through his tousled hair, "I wouldn't mind it if it means I get to spend some time with you."  
  
Wonshik felt blood rush towards his face and he looked away. A sheepish laugh escaped his lips and he turned back to Taekwoon, "That was extremely cheesy. I hope you regret saying that."  
  
"And if I don't?"  
  
"Well..." The man stood up and stretched his arms outwards. He peered out into the skyline as the Reaper stood as well, going towards his balcony.  
  
Wonshik left his thought unfinished and decided to follow him, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing. They stood outside for a while, enjoying the fresh air and each other's presence. The sun was shining on the lush green grass, reflecting onto the roads and casting the shadows of lively trees onto the ground.  
  
Taekwoon looked over at Wonshik, his cat-like eyes shining in the sun's light.  
  
"Tonight, are you busy?"  
  
"Nope, why?"  
  
Taekwoon sucked a breath in. He glanced over at Wonshik and said, "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"  
  
_Please, don't be making a fool of yourself, Taekwoon._  
  
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Wonshik asked. A light laugh graced his lips and he smiled at him, his head tilting to the side. "I didn't know you swung that way, Taek."  
  
The casualness of his words made Taekwoon smile, "I like to think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual."  
  
"I think I've heard that line somewhere... _Shadowhunters_ , right?"  
  
"You are a man of taste."  
  
"I must be if I'm agreeing to go out with you."  
  
Taekwoon felt his heart skip a beat, maybe two, and he looked into Wonshik's eyes. He could feel his breath quickening as their gazes met.  
  
A piercing whistle brought Taekwoon's attention to the golden key flying his way. He rose a hand and caught it between his fingertips, the metal cold against his skin.  
  
"That's my cue to leave," he told Wonshik, summoning Santa Muerte onto his back. He turned away, a secret smile forming on his lips as he opened a rift. "I'll see you tonight, then."  
  
"I'll be looking forward to it."  
  
And then he was gone.

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Wonshik hadn't felt this giddy in a long while, his heartbeat quickened just at the thought of what his night with Taekwoon would bring.  
  
His lips pressed together as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He sighed and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, ran a hand through his hair and flashed a smile at his reflection.  
  
"You can do this, Shik."  
  
A knock resounded through his home just as he slipped his shoes on, signalling the arrival of his partner for the night.  
  
He made his way to the door and took a deep breath in before opening it.  
  
Taekwoon stood in front of him, dressed in a pastel pink button up shirt and beige pants. His hair was no longer swept back, his bangs instead kissing along his eyebrows.  
  
He smiled, "Glasses?"  
  
Wonshik chuckled, pushing them up by brim, "They're not necessary, but I look good in them."  
  
"Indeed you do."  
  
His words caught in his throat, taken aback by the sudden compliment.  
  
Taekwoon laughed, holding a hand out, "Come on, let's go get dinner."  
  
He took his hand and closed the door behind him as they made their way to the lobby.  
  
Wonshik realized that for once his neighbours were actually paying attention to him. Their eyes went from his bespectacled face, down to his and Taekwoon's intertwined hands. He felt Taekwoon pull him closer to his side, an unusual warmth radiating off the Reaper's body.  
  
He smiled to himself and followed Taekwoon's lead.

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

Taekwoon ended up bringing him to a small restaurant called _Terre Rouge_. Its ceiling was decorated with white paper butterflies and crystal lights. The walls were beige, covered in postal markings and stamps.  
  
They were brought to a table near the back of the restaurant, the area just a bit dimmer than the rest of the room.  
  
Taekwoon smiled and sat down across from Wonshik, his hand subconsciously reaching out to rest atop his partner's.  
  
After they had placed their orders, they spent the time waiting showering each other with little compliments and teasing smiles.  
  
"Thank you," Taekwoon mumbled, thumb gently rubbing against Wonshik's wrist, "You have no idea how happy you've made me just by agreeing to this one night."  
  
Wonshik chuckled, using the moment to intertwine his fingers between Taekwoon's once again and admire the sight.  
  
"If you would like to, I wouldn't say no to another date with you," Wonshik told him, his gaze trailing up Taekwoon's arm and to his beautiful eyes, "I wouldn't mind it, especially if it makes you happy."  
  
Taekwoon felt his face heat up, and covered himself sheepishly with his free hand. He didn't think he had fallen so deep already.

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

The rest of their dinner went by quickly, and now, they were sitting on the bank of Kingsdale River, hand in hand and watching the sunset.  
  
Taekwoon sat with his head leaning against Wonshik's shoulder, listening to his soft breathing and closing his eyes. He felt Wonshik squeeze his hand and he smiled.  
  
"Taek..."  
  
The smile disappeared as he opened his eyes and looked up at him, "Yes?"  
  
"Can you promise me something?" Wonshik's question came from out of the blue, his gaze not moving to meet the Reaper's.  
  
Nevertheless, Taekwoon answered.  
  
"Of course, what is it?"  
  
"Stop me from killing people," he stated, his grip on Taekwoon's hand tightened a bit more and he began chewing at his bottom lip, "I don't want to hurt anyone else. Please..."  
  
Taekwoon lifted his head from his shoulder and gently turned Wonshik's head with his free hand, making him face him.  
  
"I'll do everything in my power to help you," he whispered, his hand carefully holding Wonshik's cheek as he spoke, "It may not be much, but I promise you, I will try."  
  
Wonshik's lips parted, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, "Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means-"  
  
He was cut off by a foreign feeling against his lips. It was soft and loving, prompting him to close his eyes and return it. He felt Taekwoon smile into the kiss and pulled him even closer.  
  
To Wonshik, Taekwoon's lips tasted like the Sangiovese wine they had shared during their dinner. The faint scent of cherries and clove-spices clouded his senses as their lips moved against one another. Wonshik's lips, on the other hand, had the faint coppery taste of blood along them. Taekwoon didn't take that detail very lightly, as it seemed like an uncalled for nod towards his dark past. Nevertheless, he tried his best to ignore it, focusing his mind on the way Wonshik's lips seemed to press for more.  
  
When they parted, they were panting lightly, foreheads pressed against one another and bright little smiles on each of their faces  
  
"Would you... like to stay at my place tonight?" Wonshik whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Taekwoon's lips as he waited for an answer.  
  
"I would love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo y'all, K here... I've never realized how weird AO3's format is until this chapter... because I did it on my phone and I regret that. (I'll fix that stuff on my computer tomorrow morning...)
> 
> Anyways, I honestly don't mean to have such long breaks between chapters, I've just been having a bit of trouble with editing. (And writers block for the next chapter but that's another story.)
> 
> I'll try to get another chapter posted by the eleventh, since I'll be on a trip that entire week.
> 
> Well, until next time!
> 
> \- K


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